Friday Nights
by ExquisiteRose
Summary: Written for a reviewer. Matthew, a twenty-one year old college student, lost his lover, Dominic, who disappeared unexpectedly fourteen months previous. A night at a bar leads to some unexpected revelations and unwanted scenarios that will send Matthew's life into a raging mess that he may not want to escape.. A/U. OCs. OMCs later. Warnings inside.
1. Matthew

**A/N: I have been trying to write this for ages! My friends and I are creating a journal, and I'm doing the first chapter. This story's chapters is solely mine, but their chapters may be posted separtely, if you're interested. I shouldn't post more chapters _quite_ yet, since I'm terribly busy (I want to write more, though..), but I would like to offer the use of a Twitter page created for notes about it. It's ExquisiteRose7 on Twitter . com. I'll post status about if I'll do updates, any explanations, ideas, etcetera (for _all_ of my stories). Polls will be posted here. Follow it, if you'd like to know about if this story (or any others) is progressing.**

**Yes, there are OCs; however, the original characters of Twilight will still be included in later chapters, if you'd only read them, so never fear there!**

**A note: If you don't like any of the ideas in this story, please don't read it. You'll only be wasting your time. If you have no problems with the themes presented here, then, please, read on and review. The warnings are for each chapter.**

**Warnings: OCs. Slash. Thoughts of suicide. Implied kidnappings. Mention of alcohol use. Mentions of death, and afterlife themes; a brief introduction to the idea of vampires, but it's light enough that you may not catch it. No underage drinking, as the main character is twenty-two (That will be explained more in depth later). This isn't neccesarily canon, but some aspects will come in later.**

**Diclaimer: I don't own Twilight, honestly. My name is not Stephanie Meyer, as you can tell. The plot, though-that's all mine! :D**

**Matthew POV:**

It was cold.

A small detail in light of other things, such as the fact that Matthew was bound in harsh, constricting ropes against a banister in what appeared to be a basement. The bone-chilling cold he felt seeping through his body was almost insignificant in comparison. He winced, trying to recall how exactly it was that he came to be here.

He remembered having a quick shot of beer in the small bar around the corner of his house. They used to always go there on Friday nights, regardless of weather, traffic, or work; they never missed a Friday for anything. When _he _disappearedfrom his life, he unconciously continued the tradition, maybe hoping to see him, although he'd deny it if asked. After classes at college, he'd go home, get dressed in more casual attire, and walk to the bar.

Matthew used to joke about this tradition they had, saying that, if Dominic's idea of staying young was going to a bar for two hours every Friday, then he was sorely lacking. Dominic would become indignant saying twenty five was _not_ old, and that age was an inevitable change in the course of life, they might as well get used to it. He would merely smile at him and give him a kiss on the cheek, commenting teasingly, 'that's what old people say'.

Now, it was just him, and he couldn't help, but feel bereft in Dominic's absence. They say, 'Familiarity breeds contempt,' but he had to disagree; all he longed for was that familiar face, and if he couldn't have it, then he'd settle for their familiar place. He was desperate for that familiarity, his hands grasping for it in his dreams, reaching for it greedily, but it always slipped through his fingers, just out of his reach, a ghost of what he thought he'd always have.

Deep down, no matter how hard he reached for it, even if he reached for it all his life with all his might, this dream was impossible while alive. While his concious mind knew that, his subconscious, coupled heartily with his body, instinctively reached for the warm body that had been there without exception for almost five years straight. Surely a small absence of fourteen months didn't suggest that the comforting, lithe body would never return.. Right?

What he could never achieve at night time in his consistant dreams, he tried to achieve at the Nightworm. At times, he pondered not going. What was the Nightworm, after all, without him? It was a mockery; his life was a mockery, half-empty. Yet, no matter the disrepair of his life, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of the only thing he had left of him. Friday nights gave him something to look forward to; something to live for. Without it...

He tried once, to give up Friday nights, to try to move past it, to accpet he wasn't coming back. His mother had advised him, barely two weeks after he had disappeared, for him to see a psychologist, Mr. Smith. By his suggestion, he didn't go one Friday night. Although his body spasmed and his heart ached to the point of bursting, not to mention the development of a throbbing headache, he went to sleep feeling like he had accomplished something. The next morning, however, he woke up yearning for a bullet for breakfast. He never attempted it again.

Now, sitting here in this dank and smelly basement on this Friday night, he wondered if he should have. Suicide seemed extremely appealing to him since Dominic had gone. Multiple times a day he would ponder the idea, seriously contemplating it. In the end, he always decided not to. What if Dominic was waiting there, angry with him for his choice? He knew Dominic would be displeased with him if their souls ever encountered each other again in the afterlife, knowing he had taken his own life. Dominic had once told him that suicide was the coward's way out, but if he could see _him_ in the afterlife, happy and without ire for his decision, he would have done it in a second. As it was, he couldn't bring himself to make Dominic unhappy, even if he really had no choice in the decision. So, maybe suicide was a bad choice, but dying alone and roped in someone's basement? He wondered if Dominic could have made an exception, just this once.

The last clear and concise thing he remembered from the bar was someone with a pale face and golden eyes offering him a drink. He looked so familiar, just like his love, that he had accepted it without hesitation, then latched onto the man. Thinking on it now, though he knew it to be impossible, he wondered if that _was_ Dominic. The man had looked rather like him from what he could see, just paler, like the glow of the moon's surface; had laughed like him, danced like him, spoke like him.. Maybe if the cloak that had shrouded his face would have been removed, he would have known. But it was useless to think on these things now, especially since Dominic was gone, and he would probably never see him or that man again, the man who reminded him of his love, the man who calmed his raging soul for those few brief moments.

Sighing into the dusty air, which smelled a certain sort of awful, he questioned aloud, once again, his fiance's untimely departure from his life, "Why didn't you take me with you?"

He knew there would be no answer; there never was.

He shivered violently in the cold.

**A/N: This chapter was terribly angsty. Hmmm. Well, it'll get better, I promise. Now tell me.. Anyone interested?**

**Please leave a review! :)**


	2. Lucas

**A/N**: I can't even explain to you why this took so long, everything has been a mess for awhile. I'm just barely getting things 'cleaned up'. Bear with me?

**W/C**: A pitiful 870 words. The next one will be longer.

**Additional notes**: The warnings for the story were issued in the first chapter. If anything changes, I'll tell you and add it to the warnings in the first chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Twilight. Not even the slightest bit. Any and all mistakes are my own.

* * *

When the door opens, Matthew snaps awake, the sleep he had been in light enough to be able to wake easily. Footsteps echoed in the assumed basement, and Matthew felt a trill of fear run up his spine. His hands, still tied together by ropes, clenched and unclenched. The heels of his feet dug into the floor, and he felt himself slide closer to the banister.

The steps were getting closer now, and Matthew pulled futilely at his restraints, kicking at the ground. His face turned red from effort, and he let out a harsh breath.

The steps paused now, the person now directly in front of him. Matthew glanced up.

A pale man stood in front of him, his hair coiffed stylishly and his clothing impeccable, Matthew noted. How strange. "Hello," the stranger greeted politely, voice trilling and high.

Matthew stared at him dumbly. The stranger smiled benignly.

"I'm Lucas," he introduced himself. "And you're Matthew."

Matthew nodded, unable to find his voice.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. We've all heard quite a bit about you," Lucas said conversationally.

Matthew coughed, clearing his throat, and said hoarsely, wryly, "I can't say the same, as the circumstances of which I'm meeting you are rather unpleasant and I've heard nothing about you. My mother taught me never to lie."

Lucas looked at Matthew curiously, almost amused, and said, "Your mother taught you no such thing. But it's alright, neither did mine. Now," he continued hands fluttering, "we really need to get you out of these ropes. I can't imagine what it's doing to your skin. But don't you worry about that; I have some skin moisturizer that should have it soft again soon enough."

Lucas walked around Matthew and grabbed the ropes that attached him to the banister, giving them a small tug. Matthew hissed. "My apologies," Lucas said. "They weren't supposed to tie them this tight," he muttered. "Listen, I'm going to untie you now. Believe me when I say it's better for everyone involved if you don't fight me once you're free, okay? There are many guards on the ground floor, not to mention the people stationed outside, and then the Master himself."

Matthew stayed very still as Lucas pulled out a switch blade, still chattering away about the dangers of escape, something Matthew could hardly comprehend with all the adrenaline sending blood pounding through his ears. Lucas lowered the switchblade, then sliced it through the air, swiftly cutting the ropes binding Matthew. Matthew tensed, then jumped up. Pushing at Lucas, he tried to make his escape, sending punches and kicks, quite a few landing with a whollop, but not seeming to affect Lucas at all. Lucas grabbed Matthew's wrist and held fast, watching Matthew amusedly. Matthew's punches, now less effective from the lack of food and sleep, were now few.

"Are you done now?" Lucas asked in a bored voice. Matthew narrowed his eyes, sweat on his brow. The chill from the basement was gone. "Good," Lucas said. "I'm sure you'll fight again later, but, for now, we need to take you to your quarters. It's already late, and you need to get ready for the Master. He has requested your presence in his chamber at eight. It's five, and you look like shit. We're going to need a miracle. You still need to be fed and washed and dressed and shown your room and given rules and there's so much to do in so little time. Let's get moving." And with that, Lucas pushed Matthew towards the door, open this whole time, so he could see him to his room.

* * *

Matthew soon learned that there was no escape.

He'd been there for an hour-awake, that is-and he knew.

There were guards stationed at every door, each as pale as the previous, and they were all formidable in their own right. Even Lucas, small and lean as he as, hardly seeming a threat, was hard to fight. Matthew, having taken many self-defense and fighting classes, not counting things he learned from Dominic, knew he could fight the best of them, but these men were otherwordly. Lucas held him with just a hand around his wrist. And he was the runt of the bunch.

Matthew sighed, and stepped out of the shower, toweling himself off quickly and dressing in the clothing Lucas had left for him. They were trendy, and Matthew had no complaints except that they _weren't his_, and this _wasn't his room_, and what was he even _doing _here?

He began to hyperventilate, and a guard quickly entered the room. "Are you okay, sir?"

_Sir?_

"I'm fine," Matthew gasped, cringing and hoping he'd leave. He hated them.

"Are you sure? I could get Lucas.." The guard trailed off at Matthew's glare. Clearing his throat and growing formal, the guard said, "You have twenty minutes to finish getting ready. Lucas will take you to dinner, then you'll meet the master. He's very anxious to see you, so eat fast." The guard left.

Matthew got ready, and laid on the bed until Lucas came to get him. And if he had red eyes and tear tracks from crying as he was ushered to dinner, Lucas didn't mention it.

* * *

**A/N**: Reviews may just solve all my problems. But we won't know unless I get some, right? :)


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